Abuse: The Complete Trilogy (56 page)

“
Ma belle,
be at the mercy of someone you trust, someone who you know will only give you
pleasure. Then your fear of such powerlessness will be banished.”

— André Chevalier

~~~

Renata
Koreman

“I missed you,
darlin’,” he murmurs, nuzzling into my neck, intentionally changing the subject.
“I thought about you all day.”

His declaration
is heartfelt. Grant
needs me
. The sense of fulfillment I get from
knowing this thrills me, spreading warmth through my already heated body.

“I missed you,
too,” I tell him.

When he looks at
me, the smile in his eyes squeezes my heart. “I’m a man, not an animal,” he
says with conviction.

With me still wrapped
around him, straddling his hips, he spins on his heel. He moves with a
purposeful stride, easily carrying me.

“I can restrain
myself,” he says in a low, husky voice. “Right now, I’m going to take you up to
my bed. Then I’m going to make you come again and again, because I like that.” He
kisses my forehead. “And you like that, too.”

I curl into him,
nuzzling into his neck. He automatically snags the baby monitor on the kitchen
counter, while he carries me up the stairs toward his bedroom. It charms me to
realize no matter what happens, Grant never forgets his responsibilities toward
Briley.

“Can I tell you
a secret?” I ask.

“Of course.”

My eyes lift to
meet his. I’m blinded by the familiar, hungry intensity in his gaze. “Just
between you and me?” I grin and murmur, “I absolutely adore the animal part of
you.”

He snorts his
disbelief and places me on my feet near the arm of the sofa in his bedroom. I
regard him expectantly while he takes my bathrobe off.

He grins. “Nice
nightgown.”

“You noticed,” I
say. With one hand on his shoulder, I purse my lips and strike a sultry pose. “It’s
new. I got it for you. Do you like it?”

“I do.”
Grinning, he captures my wrists and places them behind my back, holding them
with one hand. “This part is nice,” he says, touching the soft silk as he
purposely tickles me. I shriek, trying to escape his knowing fingers. “And
this,” he adds, well aware of every one of my ticklish spots.

I struggle,
giggling hysterically, while he torments me until I’m panting. Then he pulls me
hard against him, my soft breasts crushed against his hard chest. Lifting my
nightie from the back, his warm palm traces along my buttocks. I can feel his
stare.

“Are you going
to be good?” he asks, stroking my ass cheeks with feigned menace, his touch
running through me like an electric current.

“Sir, yes, sir,”
I tease, but not actually joking. Pretend or not, I still find the darkness in
his tone intimidating.

His manner has
changed—he’s finished playing and is back to being a man on a mission. He pulls
me to my feet, grabs the hem of my nightie and pulls it over my head. I stand
before him, utterly naked.

His heated stare
holds me in place as he toes off his shoes. He unbuttons his crisp white shirt
while he studies me intently, his mouth compressed. His eyes miss nothing as
his gaze travels from my eyes to my lips, lingering on my breasts, and finally fixating
between my legs.

In my
experience, men typically love boobs and tend to center their attention on them
and their own climax. Grant’s different. He fixates on my pussy, my ass and on
making
me
come. I’m sure as hell not complaining. What woman would? Yet,
whatever
he
wants, whatever
he
needs—I want to give it to him.

It’s thrilling,
this all-consuming focus of his. Also, super exciting, yet completely
unnerving.

He still hasn’t
let me go down on him, but now at least he kisses me. Hot damn, he’s a fast
learner. Man can he kiss!

Jaw clenched, he
sweeps me up into his arms and throws me down on the bed, making the mattress
bounce. It’s exhilarating, flying through the air.

Light-hearted, I
laugh.

Firm-lipped, he
doesn’t.

Grant’s eyes
remain steadily focused on me. A frisson of apprehension and lust shoot through
my body. No one has
ever
looked at me this way. His single-minded
concentration is intense. Powerful. Absolute.

Still wearing
his pants, he climbs on top of me, stretching his taut body out over mine. He balances
his weight on his arms so he doesn’t crush me.

“Spread your
legs nice and wide,” he murmurs.

“Yes, my liege,”
I breathe, outwardly flippant, but instantly complying. Then, “Mmm,” when his
hardness presses into my slick folds. His slacks are rough against my sensitive
flesh, making my skin hum. It feels good, but damn. I wish he were naked.

“You’re so
good,” he murmurs, pressing feather kisses across my forehead and cheeks. “I’m
going to reward you.”

He pins my hands
on either side of my head, our fingers interlaced, while his arousal
deliciously rocks against my core. Pressure and heat begin to build, making me throb
and ache. God, the weight and firmness of his muscular body, combined with the
ridged thickness of his erection feels fantastic.

Once more, he thoroughly
kisses me. Fierce. Possessive. I feel as though he owns me. These kisses are
much more controlled than previously, but they’re still hot as hell.

He places my
wrists together again, holding them above my head with one hand. This act makes
me feel trapped, but somehow it’s OK when Grant does it. He inches down my neck,
kissing and nibbling. With his free hand he traces along my rib cage, then palms
my breast and thumbs my erect nipple.

“Oh, Jesus,” I
moan.

He jumps on this
reaction, responding instantly. With my nipple between his thumb and forefinger,
he twists, squeezes and tugs—dragging more cries of ecstasy out of me. Close to
climax, I whimper, arch and make incoherent sounds of need. I’m already back to
100 on the 1 to 10 scale of arousal.

“I love you,
Renata,” he growls. “I will never let you go.”

“Good,” I manage
to pant, half out of my mind.

Squeezing my
captured wrists, he draws my attention to them. “Keep your hands right here, over
your head, darlin’,” he directs me, exuding a very dominant undercurrent of
command.

I stiffen as
anxiety inches up my spine, yet my body responds to his order. I can’t help it.
His commands turn me on and terrify me at the same time. There’s harsh
authority in his voice, although his low, gruff tone is clearly caused by
arousal.

I immediately do
as he asks, but now I’m nervous.

I never
submitted to André—I couldn't do it. The mere hint of it triggered panic beyond
what I could tolerate.

But
this
is different. Grant
needs
control during sex, he feels guilty when he
lets go. Dominating me in bed does it for him as he focuses
on me.
For
some reason that makes the pleasure he experiences during sex OK.

“Don’t you dare
move those hands,” he admonishes. “I don’t want you distracting me from
anything I want to do.” He smiles, but his lips are tight. “There’s so much I
want to do to you.” His features stern… determined. “But mainly, I’m going to concentrate
on making you come.”

When his
piercing gaze locks on mine—just for an instant—memories of being young and
frightened flash into my thoughts. An intense urge to run and hide sends
tendrils of panic through my veins.

He remains very
still as he studies me. Does he see my fear?

I’m OK. I’m OK.
I’m safe with Grant!

Darkness from my
past casts shadows near the edges of my mind. He’s so much bigger than I am, so
much heavier and stronger. The total power he has over me triggers flashbacks of
dread, reminding me of my father.

“Renata?” he
asks softly.

“Yes?” I whisper
breathlessly.

“I want you to
do exactly what I tell you to do. Is that OK with you?”

I nod.

“Words,” he
says. “I need you to tell me you’re OK and you
want
to do as I say. I
like taking control, but only if you like it, too.”

I swallow
nervously. “I love it when you’re in charge,” I manage to weakly reply.
I’m completely
at his mercy. It thrills me. It terrifies me! And it makes me incredibly wet.

He shoots me a
broad smile. The flare of raw pleasure in his eyes makes every stab of
apprehension worth it. Grant is giving me orders and controlling me, just as
André wanted, but was unable to do.

Arousal,
excitement and anticipation mix with fear and anxiety. I’m horny as hell, but this
unnerving sense of vulnerability is unsettling to say the least. I love it, yet
I
hate
it. Why don’t I tell him to stop?

Am I
submissive?

I’ve never had a
single brave bone in my body, but I can be strong because of Grant. Although the
idea of submitting scares me, I
want
to do this for him. I want to meet
his
needs.

His total
control is incredibly sexy. So frightening, but also so damn hot. That’s some
serious icing on an already yummy chocolate cake.

André’s words
echo in my mind,
‘Be at the mercy of someone you trust. Then your fear of
such powerlessness will be banished.’

Giving up
control terrifies me, yet I long to be free of the ingrained dread I learned as
a child. Maybe with his help, I’ll get past this roadblock. Perhaps my
relationship with him is symbiotic.

Maybe we’re
meant to heal each other.

I decide to
relax, let go, and put myself in Grant’s hands. I’ll do this for my own benefit,
but mostly I’m willing to be vulnerable
for him.

“For it is in giving that we receive.”

― Francis of Assisi

~~~

Grant
Wilkinson

Why do I push
her?

I knew the
moment Renata became uncomfortable. I’m aware of the things that make her
anxious. She’s OK with direct orders, unless I add bite to the command, nor
does she like to be held down.

Some twisted
part of me likes to drag her out of her comfort zone. It’s a rush when she
gives in and goes there,
for me.

It’s ridiculous
just how incredible it felt to carry her up the stairs, her slim body captured
within my arms. Some primitive instinct had been soothed by the act, while
every cell in my body virtually shouted,
mine!

The woman rouses
something dark and primal deep within me—a confident, powerful part of myself.

When I’m with
her, I feel complete.

Face turned to
the side, her head is against the mattress, her nipples chafed by my sheets.
Back arched, legs spread wide, her ass is in the air.

I kneel behind
her on the bed, diligently working her over. I’ve been using my mouth, my
fingers and tongue. As always, I’m captivated by the sight of her ass. It’s
soft and round. The perfect plump, compact, feminine little ass.

I place my hands
on her buttocks, squeezing and massaging, stoking and caressing. I spread her
cheeks from time to time, my gaze drawn to that tight hole. God, I’d love to
take her in the ass, but I quickly push that thought away.

What the fuck
is wrong with me?

I’m sick and I
know it.

To distract
myself, I spread her outer lips and slowly penetrate her with her rabbit dildo
vibrator. Renata bucks and cries out as I shove it inside. I stop moving
immediately.

“I thought I
told you to be still,” I murmur in a deceptively soft voice.

“Sorry,” she
gasps. I know she means it.

“No moving
unless I allow you to come.”

“Um… yes,
right,” she agrees.

I stroke her sexy
ass again. “That’s OK, darlin’. It’s difficult not to move. This feels good
though, doesn’t it?” I ask as I turn the vibrator on low, push it in and out of
her.

“Oh, fuck yes!”

I chuckle, but
notice how motionless she is. Nice. Her compliance makes me glad I’m a man. I
love the sounds she makes when she’s aroused, how she yields to my every
desire.

When I’m silent
there’s a stillness about her. Turned on as she is, Renata listens intently as
my body speaks to hers.

It’s beautiful
this raw, powerful control I have over her.

The lips of her
sex grip the dildo, just like they’d grip my cock. I begin a pattern: thrust
dildo in, tease G spot, enjoy her moans and whimpers of pleasure, pull dildo
out, repeat.

The toy glistens
with her arousal. I tap her hard, upstanding clit with my index finger, pleased
when it quivers. Renata moans from deep in her throat. I increase the speed of
the vibrator.

Man, she’s so close.

“Please, please,
please,” she murmurs.

I talk to her
constantly now, encouraging her to wait, I don’t want her to finish yet because
I’m enjoying this too much. I tell her how beautiful she is and how much she
pleases me.

Entranced, I mutter
a profanity under my breath. I could do this all day.

My cock pulses
and aches, I stroke myself to relieve it as I continue to fuck her luscious
inner core with the toy. She dearly loves this. The poor woman drips on the
sheets she’s so aroused.

“Oh, oh, oh, God,”
she slurs, incoherent with desperation.

“That’s right,”
I say huskily. “You love this, don’t you? You’re so good, Renata. I’m going to
let you come very soon.”

I adore the
delightful noises she makes as I torment her. Each whimper, each groan fills me
with satisfaction and triumph. At first, any words she spoke made sense. Now
the sounds she makes are barely intelligible.

Raw need and
erotic sensation have taken her brain hostage. That was one of my main
objectives. The victory I feel at this achievement is beyond ridiculous.

I’m so deeply in
tune with her. I feel like a lion—I conquering male animal, I could roar with pure
joy.

Her first climax
had been quick, she’d come fast and hard. The second took longer to achieve,
but she’d climaxed much harder. Her sweet sounds of pleasure and brain fogged
euphoria test my restraint.

Over the last
thirty minutes, I’ve been bringing her to the edge of climax again and again,
while refusing to let her go over. I’m driving her mad, but it will be worth
it. Her third orgasm is going to blow her mind.

Renata’s sweet
body is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her gorgeous sex, ripe and
ready, has opened up for me like a budding flower. Dripping and eager, the most
feminine part of her begs for it.

Begs for my
cock.

I smile. Too bad
she’s going to be disappointed. Again.

I want to fuck her,
I do. But what I feel in this moment surpasses any sexual need. I’m
experiencing a heightened sense of awareness. I’m
in the moment
and
utterly focused
on her.

This euphoric
sensation of power is like an out-of-body-experience. It surpasses the joy of climax,
putting it into the realm of the divine.

In giving
herself so completely, Renata transforms me.

I study her
face, judging how she feels through her expressions and the look in her dazed,
pleasure-filled eyes. Yet, it’s not her features I’m most drawn to. My pulse
spikes as I stare at the curves of her ass and her glistening sex with
single-minded intensity. The evidence of her arousal, the feminine shape and
texture of her body and her sex are such a turn on.

“I love doing
this,” I murmur huskily, caressing her breasts and her ass. “I love worshiping
your body.”

Moaning, she
quivers with pleasure.

“You’re allowed to
move now, if you’d like,” I tell her.

“Oh, thank you,”
she groans, immediately undulating with sensual need.

Her dildo
vibrates deep in her molten core. From time to time I alter the settings,
ratcheting up her arousal. I also fuck her with it, pressing in and out,
watching her squirm.

She writhes under
my ministrations, while uttering something over and over. I can’t make out the
words.

“What’s that,
darlin’? What are you saying?”

“Please!” she
cries, begging for release.

I suppress my
laugh and softly chuckle. I adore bringing her close to climax, giving her
pleasure. Making her desperate for me.

“Easy,” I
murmur. “We’re almost there.”

In and out goes
the vibrator. Every time I hit her G spot, she moans. In and out and round and
round. This is so incredibly hot. I love to make her come. I watch every aspect
of her climax.

If I hadn’t
jacked off before I arrived home, I’d be exploding right now.

Renata calls out
suddenly and her whole body stiffens. Quickly, I remove the dildo and drive
into her aching channel with three fingers of one hand. I sweat in surprise as
her greedy body sucks, pulling me in. Slick, hot and wet—the woman is absolutely
flooded with desire.

Now—she’s going
to come very soon. This time I’ll let her. I lick my lips, tense with
excitement and anticipation. This orgasm is going to be off the charts
explosive, which has been my plan all along.

I stretch her, scissoring
and curling toward her G spot. Fascinated by the sight, I explore and probe,
making her sexual tension coil. I pound in and out, prodding different areas of
her swollen sex. My hand is hard up against her. My fingers can’t go further
in.

What I do
depends on her responses. I’m hyper aware and watch every twitch. Utterly
intoxicated, I drink her in.

The palm of my
other hand rests lightly between her legs, against her upstanding clit. It’s so
engorged it’s hard as rock. It’s an interesting contrast as the skin of her
mound is soft and smooth, just like her ass cheeks.

I don’t think
I’ll ever get over the intense pleasure I feel from playing with her slick
folds and her throbbing, erect clit. I know her body so well. She’s close, so
very close.

“Give it to me,”
I hoarsely growl the order. “I want to see you come. Come,
now.
” At that
instant, I pinch and rub her swollen clit.

Renata screams
and thrashes while her sex convulses. My fingers are bathed in her slick, silky
essence. Her inner muscles squeeze my fingers so tight, they’d cut off
circulation if they didn’t release and compress with each pulse.

Astonished, I
mutter a soft oath of awe.

Perfect. So
fucking perfect.

This last orgasm
is like a volcanic eruption! I could tell she was about to climax, but I made
sure she came at my command. It’s incredibly satisfying, directing her to this
degree. When I have her here, completely under my control, it feels as though
I’ve set us both free.

“Oh yeah, that’s
the way darlin’,” I purr gratefully, stroking her stunning ass and gently
moving my fingers in and out of her while she rides out her climax, milking
every last sensation from her. “Fuck, I love watching you come.”

Renata continues
to convulse, writhing and panting with her orgasm. Her feminine musk smells
heavenly. Her mouth is swollen with my kisses, her skin is flushed with
pleasure. There’s a sheen of sweat all over her, while her sex is puffy and
pink.

The woman leaves
me breathless and aching.

Twitching and
shuddering, minutes pass as she finally finishes. Aftershocks shake her. “No
more,” she gasps, collapsing into a prone position, face down with her stomach
on my bed. “My God, Grant. You’re going to kill me.”

I laugh
heartlessly, even though my raging hard on hurts.

I doubt very
much if this is what ‘normal’ people do in bed. Yet, this is what
I like
to do. Thank God, Renata seems to like it too.

I lie down next
to her, soothing and stroking, reveling in the delicious feel of her heated
flesh. It’ll take more than a few minutes for her to fully recover. I intend to
fuck her and attain my own release before then.

I love taking
her when she’s languid and pliant after orgasm. When she’s in that state, I
shift her around like a rag doll. I could do anything to her, then. The woman
is at my mercy. It’s such a rush, it’s like I’ve conquered her completely.

It’s crazy, but
it’s then I feel as if she’s utterly mine—as though she will only
ever
belong
to me.

When we first
began playing tonight, I know I frightened her. When I gave her an order with
that authoritative, no-nonsense tone of voice, her body had stiffened,
preparing for fight-or-flight.

I command her to
do things she’s uncomfortable doing, but she’s willing to do them,
for me.

Each time she
obeys, it gives me a sense of power and joy like I’ve never experienced before.
I don’t know what it is, or why I need it.

When I have her
in this incredible state—right in the palm of my hand, I feel as though I could
do anything with her, or
to her.
Her trust blows my mind, particularly
given her history. The manner in which she gives herself over to me so
completely is such a gift.

Renata takes me
higher than any drug possibly could. I feel complete, gloriously free and
alive. I can do anything, be anything… have anything.

Is this love
I feel when she gives herself to me?

I long to be
inside her. Despite my aching need I hold back, savoring the moment. The sense
of connection between us is intense. Pleasure, peace and sanity—that’s what I
feel when I’m with her.

There isn’t
anything I wouldn’t do for Renata.

“What do you
want now, beautiful?” I ask her, while tenderly brushing her messy damp hair
back from her face. “Tell me.”

I trail my
fingers along her skin, stroking every inch of her I can reach. I adore the way
she quivers under my touch, almost purring with every caress. I must be providing
her with something she needs too. Otherwise she wouldn’t stay with me.

“I’ll give you
anything,” I murmur softly. “If it’s within my power, I will.”

Limp and
languid, she rolls over, props her head on an elbow and regards me with open
curiosity. “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I curb a
grimace, feeling a hint of trepidation. What could she ask for that I won’t
want to give her? Just now I can’t think of a thing. “What do you want?” I ask.

She tilts her
head, a subtle smile tugs her lips. “I’d like to have your cock in my mouth.”

See? You have
a lollipop, too. Feels good, doesn’t it?

No!
My
eyes widen with this bombshell, while I boil with inner heat. My whole body
stiffens in an immediate, involuntary response. Am I aroused, frightened or
ashamed?

It’s probably
all of those things and more. My raging hard on begins to deflate. Even if I
stiffen, I doubt I’ll be able to climax with her mouth around my cock.

I can’t. I
just can’t!

Son of a
bitch.
Now
, I find something I don’t want to give her? Why didn’t I
think of this earlier? I like to push her, but it seems every so often, she
does the same to me.

Renata sits up,
her knowing eyes study me. “I’ve been thinking about this,” she begins. “You’re
mind blowingly fantastic when it comes to giving
me
oral sex, but you’re
hung up on receiving it.”

I sit up too,
but say nothing. I avert my gaze and stare at the wall.

“Hey,” she says.
“Don’t sweat it. We don’t have to do anything about this right now.”

Fuck.
I
inhale a deep breath, muster up a half-smile and turn toward her. She’s already
helped me to face so much. If my little mouse can move out of her comfort zone
for me, the least the monster can do is match her unbelievable bravery.